


Kingsman: Sin City Las Vegas

by Alayne_StoneColdFox



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Kingsman: The Golden Circle
Genre: But also plot, Canon Compliant, DEAD? what does that mean?, F/M, Harry's getting married??, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, and gambling and casinos, bi-curious eggsy, male strip clubs?, murder and kidnapping and cults, no ones dead, wedding chapels with Elvis impersonators, whats happening to this organisation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-06 21:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12219348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alayne_StoneColdFox/pseuds/Alayne_StoneColdFox
Summary: It took Gary 'Eggsy ' Unwin, royal consort to Princess Tilde of Sweden, all of nine months to decide that perhaps retirement in a plush palace wasn't for him. So when his nearest and dearest, Harry Hart, casually invites him along on a mission to investigate the kidnappings and murders of wealthy and connected socialites in Las Vegas. A chance for danger, a chance to live out his Casino Royale fantasy, a chance to finally get shot at again... how could he say no? Viva Las Vegas, baby.As they make their way back to America, they liaison with the Statesmen, and two new faces are there to help them. Legendary Statesman of the seventies, Agent Merlot. He's well aged and smooth as fuck, with old ties to Vegas and it's shady characters. With him is Agent Bacardi, a girl who can hold her own, but has the unfortunate track record of being honey potted one too many times. They may not be high on the call list of top agent's these days, but they may be just the help Eggsy and Harry need in the city of sin.Canon compliant....for the most part. It's not like old friends haven't come back from the dead before...





	1. Semi out of semi-retirement

Royalty was not as fun, nor as easy, as Disney movies had promised.

Meetings. Lots of meeting, and dinners, and charity gala’s, and more meetings, and shaking diplomat’s hands, and being passed flowers by little children, and going to schools, and shaking more hands at more meetings. Plus, people followed you absolutely everywhere. There were teams of people with cellphones attached to their ears, and assistants with bags full of tissues and mints, passing you combs for your hair because the cars going to be arriving in front of a building with multitudes of news cameras, and then two separate people would be whispering in your ear at the same time, one reminding you about who exactly this person you were meeting actually was and the second trying to get you to memorise a witty yet polite bit of banter to say as you shook more bloody hands. Not to mention the security that wouldn’t leave you alone.

Out of all the people in Sweden who needed protection, Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin, was probably in least need of it.

But I suppose to them, he was only Princess Tilde’s consort (Not quite a prince. He couldn’t call himself that. There were a lot of rules about this sort of thing) and not a retired Kinsgman agent. Top Kingsman agent, even. Even thinking of the word ‘retired’ was a little dig at his mood these days. He thought it was a good idea at the time. But it was only nine months in and an ache had begun to creep in about what he’d given up…

He supposed it was good to go out with a bang. Top of his game. Saved the world twice, that’s not so bad. ‘Imagine if you’d kept at it and screwed up the third time?’ he thought to himself as he wandered the castle.

Wandered was maybe the wrong word. He was skulking. Keeping out of sight in the lesser known hallways, more for the maid and service crew more than anyone. It’s what he did in his down time these days, since if he chanced sitting down with his x-box in he and Tilde’s private rooms, that’s the first place anyone ever looked whenever another meeting popped up. And another meeting always popped up.

As he absentmindedly turned a corner of the passageway, his eyes landed on one of the dumbwaiters, used by the staff for laundry. On a spur of the moment whim, Eggsy stood back by the corner and watched as a young maid unloading a heap of fresh linin that had been sent up on the small freight elevator. Some way closer to him, another maid appeared in the hallway, pushing a trolley full of crumpled up bed sheets out of a side door. There was a brief moment she disappeared back where she came from, and Eggsy eyed her trolley. It was lined up perfectly.

With an indulgent smile, he made a break for it.

He ran with silent footfalls, launching and tumbling himself into the trolley, which rocketed forward on its wheels. It rolled all the way down the hall, with Eggsy poking his head up from amongst the dirty sheets, eyeing the dumbwaiter. The maid had her back turned, and pressed the dumbwaiter to go down with a ding as she made her way down the opposite corridor. Eggsy counted down the split seconds in his head to be able to pull this off, and at just the right moment, left the trolley and sprung up into the dumbwaiter, sliding in between the metal doors before they closed, leaving the trolley to crash against the wall. But he was in, unnoticed, as cramped as it was. He felt himself travelling down, down, down the multiple levels of the castle, before it stopped, doors opening. He was met with the face of another maid, who let of a squeak of shock at the sight of him, but he brought a finger to his lips with a charming smile, as he rolled out, commandeering a serving trolley full of cleaning supplies that was nearby, pushing it along to get some momentum before popping his feet up and using it as a scooter.

‘If only I was really being shot at right now’ he thought, finding himself pretending to duck as he wheeled dangerously around a corner.

When he came across a set of tightly rounded stairs, he abandoned the trolley, jumping dramatically off, as if it might explode any second, and did a tight barrel roll across the royal chintz carpet. Then he was up and on the well polished stair case bannister, sliding down. It was a two story stair case, and before he reached the bottom, he rolled over its edge backwards, doing a flip in the air, before landing with practiced ease on the ground in a crouch. He heard a noise, and with instinct, he drew his weapon, standing and pointing in the offender’s direction.

Only it wasn’t an offender. It was just yet another maid. And Eggsy’s weapon was his hands in a gun formation. Not that she didn’t look slightly frightened any way.

“Uh….god morgon.” He nodded, straightening up, and carrying on past her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

“VIVAAAAA LAS VEEEEEGAAAAAS.” 

“WHOOOOOOOO!” 

A pack of girls in glitzy dresses cheered and threw their hands up, each throwing back what was their fourth shot that night. And they’d only gotten into the bar twenty minutes ago.  
The place was packed, the music loud, and the decorations exceedingly neon.

Clementine breathed uneasily as she held the small shot glass to her lips, before tipping her head back. She held the sharp, foul, liquor in her mouth instead of downing it. She wasn’t practiced at this, and by now, had decided she didn’t actually like shots at all. She glanced around at the other girls around her. They weren’t looking at her. No surprise, they’d barely noticed her this whole trip. She brought the glass back up to her lips and discreetly spat the shot back out. She dropped the shot and its contents to the dirty club floor, unnoticed in the throngs of people, and smiled and cheered along with the girls. Her friends. Kind of.

“Another round, another round!” came the cry of one particular girl, stood out above the rest, waving a wad of her money to the bartenders, ensuring they were being attended too without delay. It helped that she was beautiful, had platinum blonde hair, and was in her twenties of course.

That was Dandelion. The most friend-ish of these friends to Clementine. An aging rockstar’s daughter, party girl and socialite. Where Clemetine was drab and quiet, Dandelion was fabulous and loud. The girls had met at Oxford University, having dorm rooms right close by one another, and even if they hadn’t much else in common, they bonded over living in the shadow of extremely rich and well known parents.

“You girls sound British. You British?” one fine young bartended took the chance to flirt as he poured their drinks.

“Yeah!” Dandelion yelled back over the noise “You ever heard of the band ‘Tameless Cherry’?” she slurred slightly.

“Uh…maybe? You going to them tonight or something?”

“What? No, no, they’re like, an old band. From the eighties. They had the song that goes ‘nuh nuh nunuh nanana TAKE ME. TO THE DAAARK SIDE of your bed, baby!! Nuh nuuh duh duh duh!! You have to have heard it!” Dandelion coaxed him.

The bartender smiled along as he lined up the shots for them to take “Oh, yeah, that rings a bell.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my dad! My dad was their singer and lead guitarist!”

“Ah, cool.” He said, more occupied with cashing her money in the register than he was anything else.

Clementine could see the annoyance on Dandelions face. Then she felt her own arm being tugged.

“And my friend,” Dandelion started “I’ll tell you who she is!”

“What? Dandy, don’t-“ Clementine’s eyed widened, but Dandelion wasn’t listening, and had leant across the bar to whisper her secret to this stranger, and the bartenders eyes had shot back up again in piqued interest.

“Yeah,” Dandelion looked smug.

“Wow,” the bartender actually looked impressed, eyes looking over Clementine, and she felt herself blush. She probably shouldn’t be advertising her…well, ‘connections’, as she hated to say. This trip hadn’t been approved by her mother exactly, she’d only just decided spur of the moment follow Dandelion and her party girl friends on this wild trip. It had only been a day, and a day was all she expected to get before her assigned Oxford campus security noticed she was missing and grassed her up.

Still, it was a little flattering to actually be noticed.

He passed Clementine her shot personally.

“So you’re a bit of a big deal then, huh?”

Well, her mother was the big deal really, but looking into the bartender’s brown eyes, with cheekbones higher than her grade point average (which was actually incredibly high, mind you) she nodded along and laughed. 

“Yeah, guess so.” 

And this time she actually downed the shot.

It was sharp but it was warm down her throat. It didn’t have the same taste as the last one.

“You know, I could get off work right about now.” She found the bartender had leant across to talk right in her ear. His breath warm on her skin.

“Oh…really…” she wasn’t sure what to say next. Flirting was hardly a sport she had much exercise in. luckily, Dandelion was here and listening in.

“We have a suite back at our hotel, you should come back with us!” she urged, and clementine felt a keen nudge from her friend.

“Oooh,” one of the other girls chimed in “Is priss miss Clementine trying to get laid tonight?”

Clementine laughed, embarrassed, as they all cooed and hollered at her but she was already feeling somewhat looser. That alcohol was kicking in quickly.

“Oh, leave off her! You know she’s only a virgin.” Said Dandelion. 

“Might not be for much longer, hey?” the girls cackled.

Then they were all moving on out of the club, and piling into taxi’s. Bartender included. He was so handsome. And she was so…so light headed. He held her arm as they walked. Wow, her feet were kind of stumbling. Why was she stumbling so much, a couple of shots couldn’t do that someone, could they? She didn’t know. Then they were at the hotel. That happened fast. Everything was…everything was going fast, and her head was swimmy, and her feet felt even heavier. Her whole body felt…felt…what was the word…..words. Words? She couldn’t think what she felt…feeling and thinking….

What she was…. thinking any more?

Thinking any more….

Heavy feet. So heavy feet.

…thinking

…More…

It felt like Clementine closed her eyes for all of twenty seconds. Just resting her eyes. She was scared but they were so heavy. No. Open your eyes again. Something’s wrong.

But when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in the hotel lobby anymore, she was….she was in a bathtub? 

‘What am I doing sitting in a bathtub?’ 

The shower curtain had been pulled across. All she could see was its whiteness, and the tiles of the wall. But she could smell vomit. Her nose wrinkled at the acidic smell, looking down to see her black going out dressed where she’d been sick on herself.

“Dandy….” She called, realising her throat felt raw, her voice coming out hoarse Where was her friend. Where were the other girls?“ Steph?....Mel? Cara?”

What had happened. She could only guess. She’d passed out and her they must have carried her back to the hotel room, put her in the tub to sober up. Where were they? Her head hurt. She wanted someone to come and fetch her a glass or water or something. What time was it. How long had she been here? Could she hear something? Crying? She tried to focus on it, even as her head was pounding.

Then she heard a scream. Not one scream. An ongoing, begging, pleading scream of a girl, muffled from another room.

Her heart froze. Her whole body froze.

The screaming didn’t last long. It stopped all too suddenly. Like it was cut off mid way.

But then she heard men’s voices. More than one.

“Come on, we’ve spent too long here. Get the last one into the bags…they’re nobodies. Hack her up if that’s what if takes her to fit….” 

“and the other two?”

“They’re the ones worth our time. Both absolutely loaded. Shame the blondes obviously been around the block though. Not as useful as she could have been…. the other girl though, she’s still pure….she’ll be wanting her.”

Clementine couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. What was happening…what had happened…

She moved her hand, realising it was shaking.

Dandelion. Where was Dandelion?

When she pulled back the curtain of the bath, there she was. Her friend. Lying on the tiled floor in a pool of blood, propped up against the wall. Body slack, expression blank, a knife plunged deep into her chest.

And then Clementine screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Tea was poured for them. Cucumber sandwiches’ offered on a tiered stand. Eggsy has been offered something that was described as high tea crumpets with smashed strawberry mascarpone cream and white chocolate. He could finish one in about two bites, and he’d put away three already.

“Good?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“S’alright. I’d Kill for a pasty though.”

“Does the royal Swedish kitchen not offer pasties?”

“Not the way the local corner store makes ‘em.”

Harry gave him one of those looks that had Eggsy resort to staring back down at his tea cup.

“A tad homesick, are we?”

Eggsy shrugged it off “It’s whatever. The usual. Not like I can’t visit when I want…I mean, when it suits the crowns commitments and what Tilde’s doing.”

They sat in one of the many parlors of the palace. Mr Pickles the second, later shortened to pickles junior, and then further shortened to just ‘Pickles’, sat placidly at Harry’s feet. Already completely trained of course.

Eggsy dropped the growing puppy some of his crusts, which he lapped up with a wag of his scruffy tail. He would have liked to meet up with his old friend at somewhere a bit less completely stifling, like a pub, without girls with tea pots hovering by and topping up his cup every other minute, but Harry of course was still on Kingsman scheduling. Which meant he dropped by, barely announced, in between having a multitude of daring adventures. 

While Eggsy sat here day after day eating mascarpone ice cream crumpet sandwich…whatever they were.

“But lets not talk about me, eh, I haven’t done anything the least bit interesting lately.”

“I thought I saw you on the news for attending the world childhood foundation charity gala only last week?”

“Dead boring.”

“And that state visit to the naval port of karlskrona , the UNESCO world heritage sight?”

“Could barely keep my eyes open.”

“Attending the Princess of Spain’s birthday in Madrid?”

“Yeah, and she’s like eleven….and are you checking up on me through Swedish TV these days or what?”

Harry looked non-chalant “Just keeping an eye out.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve only got one to spare old man, don’t spend too much time with it focused on me. I’m sure you’ve got other things on your plate.” 

He said the last part rather suggestively. A bid to hear any news of kingsman. Hopefully Harry would indulge him. He usually divulged at least a few thrilling tidbits from whatever had been happening that month in the world of elite espionage.

Harry had another sip of his tea “Yes. There have been a few things cropping up lately. Something I had actually been meaning to bring up with you when I had the chance…. if you would be interested, of course?”

Harry’s eyes flicked towards the girls with the teapot. Then back to Eggsy, who read his look immediately.

This was the cue for the palace staff to leave.

“Go on, you can leave…go! It’s alright. Go.” Eggsy, somewhat gently, trying in his broken Swedish, to prompt the maids out the door, before shutting it behind them. Tilde’s father would be hearing about that. He liked to keep a keen eye on Eggsy and surely he had the staff reporting back to him.

Not that he was bothered to worry about that now. He had to try and not look too keen as he rushed back to the table, Harry still looking perfectly composed as he extracted a small acrylic clipboard from inside his blazer.

“Dead and kidnapped girls in Vegas. Rich, dead and kidnapped girls.” He said, as he activated the clipboard LED screen for Eggsy to read, police reports and classified documents springing into view for him to scroll through. 

“…. multiple disappearances…heiresses…diplomat’s daughters….gone missing, with requests for ransoms from parents and loved ones. Linked to murder scenes found in hotel rooms and alley ways. Bodies found cut up in strange ways across the city or dumped in the desert and…. bloody hell..” he said, coming across some gruesome pictures.

“At first the kidnappings and the murder scenes were treated separately, but none of the ransoms that have been paid have resulted in the return of any girls. We have reasons to believe We have a serial killer, chances are more than one, and they’re only hoping to extort grieving loved ones for money while they’re at it.”

“Isn’t this more of a case for the police? The American police at that. Or even the Statesmen before us? Not that this isn’t tragic but….isn’t this a little…. small fish in the big pond of international crisis’s?”

“Not when one of the missing girls is the PM’s youngest daughter.”

Another case file flashed on the screen. A brunette, her hair down to her shoulders, and a somewhat pretty but pudgy face.

“Clementine Howard. Believed to have travelled to Las Vegas for an impromptu holiday with friends without her assigned security team. Neither her nor her friends have been seen since the first night they arrived. One of these said friends is none other than the daughter of rock legend, Barnaby Dodd.”

Harry seemed to have paused for effect, where Eggsy looked blankly at him.

“…Barnaby Dodd…. front man for Tameless Cherry?”

Eggsy only looked blanker.

“Oh, come on, they were only one of the biggest rock bands of the eighties. There’s about ten albums worth of their work. I saw them live in 82’!”

“Maybe I’ll ask mum if she knows him then.”

“I’m going to mark this down as a gap in your general cultural knowledge, and not just me being old.”

“If that makes you feel better.”

“Anyway. Barnaby Dodd, and his ex-russian super model wife Oksansa, received a phonecall asking for a ransom in the millions of dollars. They promised she was still alive.”

“And the Prime Ministers girl?”

“Oddly enough, no ransom has been issued for her. She’s simply disappeared along side her friend.”

“If you’re going to ransom anyone, you’d think a head of countries daughter would rake more in than some rockstars kid.”

“My thoughts exactly. Now that the Kingsman and the Statesman are working so closely together, we’ve been asked to travel back to America with our combined intelligence to recover Miss Clementine, and find those responsible.” 

It was then that Harry put down his tea cup, and picked Mr Pickles up under his arm.

“I have the Kingsman plane fueled and ready to go at a moments notice…..I know you have your duties here at the palace but….fancy a holiday?”

Eggsy was taken a back.

….but only for a second, before the corner of his lip tugged upwards in a dangerous smile.

“Viva Las Vegas, baby.”


	2. A Resurrected Cowboy, a Scotsman, and Two Blind-Sided Agents, All Walk Into A Bar

“-Look, sorry, I really am, I know it’s short notice but we didn’t have anything major planned and-….yes….yes….ah, sure. Ok. I’ll get on to that as soon as I’m back. I’m sure Tilde can….no….no, I don’t mean to put a burden on your daughter sir, it’s just…..Ok, I can’t hear you when you yell that loud and….ah….” Eggsy pulled the phone away from his ear as he hurried alongside Harry on the tarmac of Sweden’s national air base, small weekend bag packed and in his other hand.

“The King’s started yelling in Swedish at me.” He muttered to Harry before going back to the receiver “Yeah, look, your highness, it’ll only be a week tops, I’ve texted Tilde, she can reach me anytime, ok, sorry, sorry, sorry, bye.” And he hung up the phone with a guilty look.

“He didn’t take the idea of a lads trip to Vegas well, then?” Harry asked.

Eggsy let out a held breath “Not exactly….but …..hey. I’m sure Tilde can oversee and judge the Swedish country flower show by herself.”

“In-laws. Glad I never had to bother with a set of them.”

“You sure Kingsman are gonna’ be alright with me coming back even after I’ve quote un-quote ‘retired’?”

“A kingsman never truly retires. Not if they left in good stead. Besides, there’s only a handful of us left to govern the rules, and we say….glad to have you back.”

The two smiled warmly as they entered a small and private hanger, where a sleek white and gold jet awaited them.

As they made their way towards it however, there was a small beep from Harry’s wrist watch.

He checked it and came to a sudden halt, brows knotting together, eyes settling accusingly onto the plane.

Eggsy was immediately on guard “What. What is it?”

Harry reached up to gently tap the frame of his glasses, scrutinizing the plane. Clearly seeing something that Eggsy could not.

“I left my two pilots alone on that plane…. but there’s three bodies on it now.”

They dropped their bags to the ground, including Pickles’s Louis Vuitton doggy travelling case, and both pulled their weapons out in advance. They stepped cautiously towards the plane, Harry bringing his wrist watch up to his lips.

“Come in cockpit, do you read?”

There was a bout of static.

“Repeat. Come in cockpit, do you read?”

Another sharper clip of static, and then a voice came through “Extensively, I’ll have you know. Just finished the Count of Monte Cristo, having started it back in my college years, absolute door stopper of a book. But I’ve had a bit of a break to catch up on it.” 

The both of them froze.

That was an un-mistakenly Scottish voice.

Eggsy turned to Harry, glad to see he wasn’t the only one with his mouth agog.

“…That wasn’t….?”

But before Eggsy could finish that thought, a figure appeared at the cabin door of the plane. Glasses, bald head, tartan jacket and all.

“And you’re cleared to board by the way gentleman, at your leisure.” Said Merlin, to the shock and awe of his dearest friends.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0

 

“A hologram!?” Eggsy repeated himself, in a slight state of delirium, as all three of them now sat in the air borne jet, on route to Kentucky, to rendezvous at Statesmen headquarters before the mission was underway “It was just a hologram?”

Merlin had expected this, but never the less sighed, as he attempted to explain it all for the third time “It really is a lot more than that, as a leading technological advancement in manipulated 4D image and sound creating technology, but if that’s the term you want to use, sure. It was a hologram.”

“And then you just…ran off into the jungle?”

Merlin nodded “As I sung my grand exit rendition of country road, I bought myself enough time to activate the ‘hologram’, replacing my weight with the calibrated projection box. All that died in that explosion was my expensive piece of equipment and Poppy’s gun toting mooks….and yes, then I ran off into the jungle.”

Harry nodded at the perfectly reasonable explanation, petting Mr Pickles, resting on his lap. Once he had gotten past the initial shock, and Merlin had also happily indulged him in his multitude of facial recognition, DNA scans and secret fail safe identity questions that had all been answered correctly to establish that this was, in fact, the real Merlin in the flesh before there eyes, he hadn’t been too phased really. After all. He had been ‘dead’ before too.

Eggsy’s jimmies were a little more rustled.

“Well, if you were alive this whole time, you could have at least come back and helped us knock off Poppy, and Charlie, and the evil robot dogs that almost killed us!”

“And the evil salon lady robot with the pigtails who shot at us.” Harry added.

“And the evil salon lady robot with the pigtails that shot at us!”

“We could have done with some help. Elton John ended up having to pitch in!”

“There were stockpiles of Poppy’s drugs that needed to be- Elton John? Really? No, not right now, expand on that later, but yes, there were stockpiles of Poppy’s drugs that needed to be destroyed.” Merlin explained “Warehouses and warehouses worth. Not to mention the poppy fields that spanned acres of her land, and the poor people she had forced the manufacture her drugs against their will. I stayed behind to take care of that, knowing you two would be more than capable of handling the situation with Poppy herself.” 

“….Ok…fair call. But why didn’t you come back after that? Its been nine months! You’re like…one third of the entire Kingsman organization at this point.”

At this, Merlin did look a little apologetic “To be honest I had assumed you’d figure me and my ruse out at the point you went back to collect my body, only to find there was no body.”

Harry and Eggsy exchanged glances.

“We….we didn’t think there’d be much of you left to bring back…” Harry murmured, guiltily.

“We did have a really nice memorial service for you though. Flag draped over the coffin and everything. Dead touching.”

“I know. I went. Always wondered what my own funeral would be like. Again, a little disappointed I wasn’t found out. I mean, come on men! I know I’m an elite level agent as well, but I expected a little better.”

“So, you spent nine months in hiding, all to guilt us?” Harry asked.

Merlin shrugged innocently “A little bit of that, yes… and you know the old saying. I’ll rest when I’m dead? Well, I was dead. I was in Cambodia, and I wanted a holiday.”

They stared at him.

“A holiday?”

“Yeah. Haven’t had one in years. Cambodia’s a beautiful country. Went on a cruise down the Mekong river, went and saw the temples, travelled into Vietnam and did that for a week, went to Bangkok, read my book.”

There was a beat of silence before Eggsy launched himself at Merlin, who was startled into thinking maybe he was about to be punched, but instead felt arms wrapping around his shoulders, in an almost aggressively tight embrace.

“Fucks sake Merlin! Merlin, fuck. FUCK!” was all Eggsy could say as he shook him, his emotions finally catching up with him, but it was all with love.

When he pulled back he pointed an accusatory finger at both him and Harry “There’s only so many times a guy can have his father figures die on him and then pop back to life, alright? This is the end of it. I’m beginning to think you two just like the dramatics of it all.”

0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sun was high above the American soil, as Eggsy, Harry and Merlin, with Mr Pickles jogging along besides them happily, walked their way around Statesmen headquarters under the familiar guise of tourists.

Only this time, when they opened the encrypted door, it was with an officially granted key card, and Tequila was waiting there to welcome them, rather than attempting to set them on fire.

“Gentleman!” he said warmly, hands on his oversized belt buckle “Welcome back to the beautiful U. S. of A, and so soon I may add. We got your message about old egg head here not being dead and all. Thanks for the heads up, ‘preciate it.” His eyes glanced over them again “And yet there’s still one more than I was expecting. Didn’t think you’d bring your pet with ya’.”

“Oi, I’m not his pet!” Eggsy scowled.

Tequila pointed downwards “I was talking about the dog.”

“Oh.”

Mr. Pickles barked, wagging his tail.

“He’s an agency trained dog. A staple of Kingsman tradition. There’s no rule prohibiting them from aiding a mission.” Said Harry. Who in truth, had simply grown very attached to the puppy.

“Hey, its your dog you’re putting in the crossfire, I don’t mind how you work.”

“He has a bag he can sit in, to keep him safe if things get dangerous.”

“Well, alright, Paris Hilton.” 

“And I’m semi-out of retirement…if you were wondering about that as well.” Eggsy added.

Tequila didn’t seem too fussed, instead moving to pick up a tray, where welcome shots of smooth amber whiskey had been poured for them “I figured you’d be back. It’s hard to leave this life, ain’t it?”

Eggsy didn’t feel like replying, downing his welcome shot in silence, staring sorely at Mr. pickles, who just looked happy to be here.

Tequila led them up in the barrel style elevator, and when the doors dinged open on the highest level, Ginger Ale was there waiting for them.

“Welcome back, agents.” She said, with a lot less swagger than Tequila, and a lot more honest warmth. Especially in regards to merlin “We were so happy to hear about you not being dead. So happy…and surprised! It was so surprising! I mean, who would’ve imagined-“

Tequila rolled his eyes “She knew he wasn’t dead all along.”

Harry and Eggsy’s jaws dropped. Ginger’s look of feigned innocence turned to red-faced guilt. Merlin’s face was set in a grimace. Tequila looked pleased to watch.

“What!?” Eggsy stared accusingly at Merlin “You told her you were alive and not us?”

Merlin bristled slightly “Just because you two didn’t notice me attending my own funeral, doesn’t mean everyone was as dense.” Then he pointed a finger between Ginger and Tequila “And You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I didn’t! Well, not until you called and ‘officially’ informed the agency.” She defended herself.

Tequila nodded “Be glad she vouched for you and had the proof to run by the board these past few hours, otherwise we’d have you running more tests to prove who you are. She saved y’all a whole heap of time better spent getting on with this mission.”

Harry pointed a finger at Merlin and it hovered dangerously tense in the air for a few moments, before Harry snatched it back down, composing anything he was about to say. 

“….I suppose I’ll let this one go as well….but you have to buy Eggsy and I one of the finer bottles of Statesmen liquor to make up for putting us through the last nine months. I lost my mind, I had an excuse.”

Eggsy kind of wanted to watch Harry give Merlin a right telling off, like when the usually calm teacher flipped and threw a blackboard eraser at a student’s head, but he supposed expensive whiskey was a consolation.

Harry started off walking down the corridor, with Eggsy following in his wake, giving Merlin Tequila and Ginger a warning look.

“I was the one who died….” Merlin muttered out of earshot, as they followed after.

They all collectively entered the grand and familiar meeting headquarters, with Champagne himself rising from his seat to greet them.

“Gentleman.” He nodded, in his thick southern drawl, smelling even more like cigar smoke than he did the last time they met him.

But he didn’t get much further than that, as Eggsy and Harry immediately noticed the other man sat down the other end of the carved oak table.

They both stared in disbelief at the mustachioed, boot-cut jean wearing, skipping rope wielding cowboy, who gave a half cocked smile and a nod of his hat to the both of them.

“NO.” was the first thing out of Eggsy’s mouth “NO. No. No, no, no, this is it for the day, I’m done. I’m truly done. This is a fucking joke at this point, no.” He threw up his hands, and if it weren’t for Tequila gently tugging him back by the scruff of his suit, he would have left the room.

“Agent Whiskey…” Harry said, as shocked, but with some sense of composure.

“Galahad. Galahad Junior.” Agent Whiskey said, cordially.

“FUCKS sake, You’re dead! Deader than dead! We killed you!” Eggsy said, with no composure whatsoever.

“Well, it’s obviously a lot harder to kill me that you limeys think.” 

“We meat grinded your body, mate!”

“That you did. Not that I’m entirely over that, by the way, but…. let by gones be by gones, my momma always said.”

“How in the hell are you even sitting here! You can’t tell me they wheeled a bunch of burger patty cowboy into the ER on a stretcher and patched you up with some plasters!”

Whiskey turned to Ginger ale “Plasters?”

“Band-Aids.” She muttered back.

“Oh. Right. Well, Medical science has come a long way from plasters, my friend.”

_“You were literally mince meat!”_

Whiskey threw up his hands “I don’t know what to tell ya’ boy, I’m not a doctor! Its like the American classic, Robocop, they can rebuild him, better than before. Nano bots! Stem cells! Cloning! A mixture of all three. All I know is I’m back baby, Whiskey 2.0!”

“Gentleman.” Ginger Ale silenced them by dropping a heavy, inches thick, medical journal on the table, sliding it over to Eggsy and Harry “I was heavily involved in the process of fixing Whiskey back to his less ground up state. The details of the operations and science involved is documented here in great detail. It should help clear up how this is all completely plausible.”

Harry and Eggsy took the journal between them, and sped-read through the complicated document. After some time, they closed it and slid it back.

“Right, well that does explain it quite well.” Harry said, reasonably.

“Seems legit enough.” Eggsy reluctantly admitted, though he squinted back at the cowboy “I still don’t like the dickhead though.”

Ginger nodded “A relatable sentiment, I assure you.”

“Seconded.” Tequila added.

Whiskey had the gall to look slightly hurt.

“Man, you did try to kill me.”

“I would like to clarify that I definitely did not try to kill you specifically, I just tried to kill the people not trying to kill you when they were trying to kill the people who made what was actually killing you…but by gones be gones.”

Champagne addressed Eggsy and Harry “Now, I’ve had my agents in to see HR and they’ve all gone on and completed a ‘harmony in the workplace’ course together. I would say its been effective for the most part. But this is the business were in, these things happen, we die, we come back to life, we try kill each other, we make up over a glass of liquor and a cigar, and we move on from it all. Don’t we boys.”

Ginger smiled forcefully.

Whiskey held up his hands in admittance.

And Tequila muttered gently under his breath “….dick.” 

Eggsy looked like he needed to sit down.

“You know from this point on, if any of you died, I won’t be able to take it seriously? You can get shot tomorrow, I’d probably laugh. You’ll be back in time for tea.”

They were silenced by the large screen on the wall lighting up, with Champagne calling for their attention.

“Gentleman. To the case at hand. There’s been a development on the initial brief since last you read it. Our current and only lead, is the supposed sighting of a once famous international criminal.”

The entirety of the table looked to see a collage of images flash up on the screen, security camera footage, of what appeared to be the same woman, with bouffant hair and cat eye sunglasses.

“We believe this to be Candice Dubois. Master thief. Stole the sum amount of tens of millions of dollars back in her hey day. Art from the Louvre. Newly minted bills from the treasury in Washington. The Casinos of Monte Carlo. She’s always had a bit of glamour to her. Little bit of show. Spent years running rings around the rich, and the law, till we got involved.”

The next picture that flickered up was a vintage black and white mug shot, with the same bouffant hair style. There were no cat eye sunglasses, but there was a nice little flick of cat eyeliner in place of them.

“She was locked up for twenty-five years in maximum security. She’s been out for all of six months now.”

“Burglary to multiple kidnappings and the murder of young girls is a big jump to make.” Harry pointed out.

“That it is. But young rich girls only. And there’s nothing ol’ Candy loved more than money, however she could get her hands on it.”

Whiskey sat up in his chair “Prison can do that to a person, make ‘em worse than what they went in. Plus, look at the CCTV footage, she got to be well into her sixties, she ain’t capable of swinging on wires to lift a Van Gogh from the MET anymore. She targets these rich girls, the easiest pickings, calls up their rich parents to get their millions, kills the girls anyway because why bother keeping them alive when you get the money wired to ya’ first?”

“Statistics show roughly 80% of kidnappings end up in murder within the first twenty-four hours.” Added Merlin.

“Does that statistic take into account kidnappings that include ransoms?” asked Ginger “It’s a far rarer crime, partly because it’s so hard to pull off.” 

Champagne agreed “Exactly why we think were dealing with a professional, or professionals plural, here. There might be more to it, or she might not have a damn thing to do with, but a big name like Candy showing up right as these crimes started taking place is too big to ignore.”

“Either way, she’s somewhere to start. It’s better than nothing.” Said Harry.

“Right. So we taking our plane or yours?” Eggsy looked around the table. 

“Not so fast, son.” Champagne wasn’t done talking “You’re not the only ones I got assigned to this case. I’ve got two more sets a’hands meeting you when you touch down in Vegas. Agent Merlot and Agent Bacardi. They’re two of our west coast agents, working mainly California, Hawaii and Nevada.”

Gingers eyebrows raised, looked impressed “Agent Merlot? The Agent Merlot?”

“He someone important?” Eggsy asked.

“I’ve heard him talked about, from back when he was active in the field.” Said whiskey.

“He was a legend of the seventies.” Ginger knew of course “The top agent. Took down drug cartels, gangs, stopped about a dozen political assassinations.”

“Nixon counted for about three of those.” Champagne muttered “Not that I hold that against him, of course. He’s a good man with a strict code, and he’s still got something left in him.”

“I didn’t know he was still active.”

“He is. In his own way. He took himself off the major cases when he started getting up there in his years. Told me this was a young mans game. Now he handles what he calls ‘small fry’ stuff, in his old beat. He knows Vegas like the back of his wrinkled hands.” It was then that Champagne clicked the screen to another image, again of Candice Dubious, but this time another man was in the shot. Her arms were raised above her head, while a tall man in a burgundy suit pointing a gun on her “More than that, Merlot was the main man responsible in taking Candy down at the height of her crime spree.”

“So he’s got a history with her.” Harry commended, taking a close look at the photograph “Knows how she operates.”

“And this …Agent Bacardi was it? Was that the same Agent involved in the near nuclear incident in Russia a couple of years ago, if I’m remembering right?” asked Ginger.

“How’s she keep up with all these cases?” Whiskey whispered to Tequila, who shrugged back, because hell if they knew half of what she did.

They went unheard as Champagne nodded to Ginger “One and the same.”

“Sir…that was almost a major international crisis from the details I remember…”

“A major international crisis that was, ultimately, averted. Since that incident, they were demoted to work out on smaller cases under Merlot’s guidance. Get mentored a little bit. There hasn’t been any incidents since. The important thing is we have Merlot on the case, and Bacardi really only comes along like a two for one deal.”

“So, we’re working with an old man, and an incompetent, to go hunt down an old lady to rescue some rich British presidents daughter?” Tequila put his hands out to get the facts straight.

“Britain has a Prime Minister, not a President.” Stated Harry in answer.

“Right.” Tequila’s palms hit the wooden surface of the table before pointing at Eggsy “I say we take our plane, it’s got more booze on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than ten kudo's and even three comments! Expectations have been exceeded! Absolute legends, all of you.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a Kingsman fic before. Just winging it (Well, I have a plot outline) and I'm just here to have fun. I'd be completely happy if even two people show up to read it! YEAH.


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